Sufficiency
by Michelle
Summary: When the end of the world was nigh, life was much easier.


Sufficiency

By Michelle

Notes at end.

Only borrowing them for the time. Promise to put them back more or less the way I found them.

***

When the end of the world was nigh, life was much easier. He did not have time to think about the people who left him behind. He was too engaged in wholesale slaughter to frivol time on that particular subject.

            And all the better for it. He did not need to ponder the inconsistencies of his life. It seemed to him that if one does not know the scent of freedom, then the cage is not such a bad place to be. With the proper dressings, it can even feel comfortable.

            _He waded slowly out into the great river, not understanding why . . ._

            He was not raised to complain. There were more important things for one of his position than grief. How could he even grieve for a woman he'd never even known? She was not Mother to him, just a woman on the fringes of his memory. Ever fleeting, ever forgotten to the misty hazes of easly childhood.

            He would do anything to have a memory of her. A real memory. A clear recollection of the actual individual that made up the woman. Images of silver stars littered about her neck did not synch with the reality of the cloak he knew this day, the cloak he held in his hands at that very moment, stroking and caressing it as if he could somehow be closer to her through it. 

            How could he trust the midnight whisper of her voice to accurately represent? How could he believe she had hair of an indescribably black shade that rippled when she laughed? How could he trust his memories when he was unable at times to distinguish between his dreams and reality? 

            _A boat cut sleekly through the water . . ._

            Her eldest son had remembered. He had remembered well and tried to relay those images often to his introverted brother. But descriptions, however well intended, do not convey the actual thing itself. Only another's perception of that thing.

            And so he wandered.

            _He reached an unsteady hand toward the boat as it drifted by . . ._  

            Off in books at first, though it served an ill-omen to his father, a man with no patience for the idle workings of life. 

            Off to warring then, forever in the shadow of those greater than he. Forever in the shadow of a woman he could not recall, save for flashes of deep sadness. 

            And when he finally came to terms with his life, when he finally learned to love his present regardless of his past, when he realized life had meaning, it crashed about him. Mocked him. The simple beauty of a silent morning in the deep woods could not banish lonliness and self-loathing.

            _A man lay in the centre, stilled, never to stir again . . ._

            He threw himself into everything more fully then. And when he came to his father's side for the last time, he was almost glad of the order to ride. His silent tears as he left the hall were half joyfull.

            And though he fought with wreckless abandon that day, he did not die. 

            It was unwelcome.

            In his fevered dreams, he felt afire. He felt his flesh boil . . until a cleansing Hope entered his lungs. 

            _He gazed at the man, a reflection of himself . . ._

            Yet it was a false Hope. One that would only contrive to steal all meaning from his life. In the dark days following his rebirth, he contemplated joining the rest of his family.

            _A reflection stuck in a single moment in time . . ._

            And in the darkest hours of his life, a hand reached out unsolicited and dragged him to his feet. Her listless eyes banished the quivering cowardice still residing in his soul. She, with barely a glance, reminded him that even if he could not save himself, he could save others.

            _He turned from the barque, refusing to gaze any longer . . ._

            He could not say for sure when his heart changed, only that it did. Where once there was no hope, there were now possibilities for a future. But how to repay the one who has saved your life?

            In his inability to express properly, he wrapped her in a cloak of stars and pressed his dry lips to her forehead. 

            He held her high above the city he served since before he was born, and if it was not enough, it was certainly a beginning. 

            In this world, where termini are most often violent, it was the same as exaltation. 

            Tomorrow would come and he would be alive.

            He pulled her closer in his embrace.

***

Notes : A sincere and most heartfelt thank you to all those who reviewed my last fic. This second foray into Middle Earth would not have happened without your lovely and well appreciated comments. Thank you all for taking the time to write a review.

My next fic is still in the brainstorming phases, but mayhap I have found my muse . . .


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